Dirty Little Secret
by Carrie H Potter
Summary: CHAPTER 3 UP! In the midst of the plans for his wedding, Ronald Weasley can’t help but notice that his best friend, Harry Potter, is still completely alone. So, he tries to set Harry up with his perfect someone. Bad idea. slash HP?
1. Roses or Orchids?

**Dirty Little Secret**

**By: **Carrie H Potter

**Rating: **PG-13 (T)

**Pairing: **HP?

**Genre: **Humor/Romance

**Summary: **In the midst of the plans for his wedding, Ronald Weasley can't help but notice that his best friend, Harry Potter, is still completely alone. So, he tries to set Harry up with his perfect someone. Bad idea. (slash HP?)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. The story, however, is my own, my _preciousssss_ (LOTR rocks!).

**Dedication: **This fic is dedicated to the best friend a girl can have: Rebecca Smith. Happy Belated Birthday, Beck!

**A/N: **this started out as a one-shot, but then i realized that i wanted to put too much in it…so i decided to split it up…it shouldn't be more than seven or eight chapters, i think…and the chapters probably won't be as long as mine usually are…at least this one isn't…other than that…i'm still grounded but mommy's being merciful and letting me post this…the fifth chap of KF-DI is coming along nicely…and that's really all that's new…i really like this one and i hope you enjoy it…

_**Chapter 1-**_ _Roses or Orchids?_

"Roses or orchids?"

Harry Potter blinked at his best friend, "Come again?"

Ron Weasley sighed, "Focus, mate, focus! 'Mione wants my answer by tonight! So, roses or orchids?"

"Uhh, Ron, why is she asking _you_ about the flowers?"

"I don't know. Guilty conscience or something. She's planning practically the whole thing by herself anyway."

"Yea, but _flowers_?"

"Look, Har, she asked my opinion on this one thing and I really wanna make a good decision for her."

"So, why are you asking me?"

"What the bloody hell do _I_ know about flowers?" Ron wailed, looking panicked.

"Here, here!" Harry said sarcastically.

Ron started to fidget, "So, you really can't help me? I mean, I thought seeing as your, well, umm, _you know_, and all…"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Oh honestly, Ron! Just because I'm gay _doesn't_ mean that I know anymore about this stuff than you do! Please."

Ron turned bright red, "I know, I know. I was just, you know, hoping," he let out a long, exaggerated sigh, "Mione's gonna kill me."

Harry wearily rubbed his temples, "_Fine_. Roses."

"Huh? What?" Ron looked at him curiously.

"God help Hermione," Harry muttered to himself and then said louder, "Roses, Ron. Go with the roses. White ones," he added as an afterthought.

"Thanks, mate," Ron sounded incredibly relieved, "you're a life saver!"

"What flavor?" Harry asked mischievously.

Ron blinked at him, "What was that, Har?"

Harry sighed, "Never mind." Why didn't _anyone_ ever get that joke? "I've gotta go now. I'm late for practice."

"Oh, alright then. Good luck," Ron smiled as Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped in front of the fireplace. "Oh, and Harry?"

Harry turned to look at him, "Yea?"

"Who're you taking to the wedding? 'Mione wants to send him an invitation, just to be polite or something," Ron rolled his eyes at his fiancé's antics.

"No one," Harry shrugged, "I'm going stag," and he threw the powder into the fireplace and walked in. He shouted, "Godric's Hollow!" and with a wave, disappeared.

Ron stared at the ebbing green flames. He was worried about Harry always being alone. He ALWAYS went stag. He'd have to talk to Hermione about this.

&#&

"I'm worried about him, 'Mione," Ron said quietly later that evening, "He's always alone when he's not with us."

Hermione Granger (soon to be Weasley) looked at the list in front of her, "What flowers did you pick, Ron?"

"White roses. Now pay attention! Our best friend's happiness could be at stake!" Ron huffed.

"I am paying attention, Ronald Weasley! You're worried that Harry's still single and you want to help him. I suggest you set him up on a blind date. Use my address book. There's a little 'G' next to the men Harry would like." At Ron's confused look, she shrugged, "Don't ask. Anyway, run along and make your fire-calls. I need to finish this," and she continued adding things to her list. Never subtracting, always adding.

Ron looked at her in awe, "Thanks, 'Mione. I love you," and he kissed her on the head before hurrying out of the room. A smile tugged at the corner of Hermione's mouth.

&#&

"No, No, NO. No way, no how, no chance. _God_, Ron, what part of _no_ don't you understand?" Harry glared at his best friend.

Ron looked at him unsympathetically, "The N-O part," he responded sarcastically. He started to push Harry toward the door of Pierre's, a fancy French restaurant.

Harry wouldn't budge, "No, Ron! I don't want to go on a blind date! I don't want to date at all! I'm happy the way I am!"

"That's what they all say," Ron countered calmly, still pushing.

"But it's true! Really! Yo ho, yo ho, a bachelor's life for me!" Harry was starting to sound hysterical, "Did Hermione put you up to this?"

Ron sighed and spun Harry around to face him, "No, she didn't Harry. Look, I know it's hard. This is the first time you're being asked to be intimate with someone since Ginny in sixth year. That was _three years_ _ago_, mate. You need this." As Harry started to argue once more, Ron covered his mouth, "Please? For me? What have I ever _really_ asked of you all these years?"

Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat, "Oh, all right," he said grudgingly.

"Excellent," Ron replied enthusiastically, and as he pushed Harry through the door, he added, "The reservation's under 'Potter'. Have fun, mate," and he was gone.

Harry set his mouth in a grim line, determined to get this night over with as quickly as possible. He slowly walked up to the maitre'd, who smiled and asked, "Name?" This was the kind of place where reservations were the only thing accepted.

"Umm, Potter," Harry muttered. The man nodded, and with another smile, beckoned Harry to follow him through the maze of tables. They reached the back of the restaurant and a secluded corner. The maitre'd nodded to the little table tucked away in the quaint spot, so Harry took a deep breath, walked over, and looked down at the table's occupant.

"Neville?" Harry asked incredulously.

Neville Longbottom blushed, "Hi, Harry."

"You're gay?" Harry was still shocked.

"Umm, yes," Neville said nervously, "Maybe this was a mistake," and he started to get up.

"No, no, it's fine," Harry said tiredly, running a hand through his hair and feeling guilty. After all, it wasn't Neville's fault that Harry was…

"Sirs, if you're ready, I'll tell you the specials," the maitre'd said loudly, looking amusedly at the scene in front of him.

It was Harry's turn to blush. He quickly took his seat, "Yes, we're ready."

"Excellent. The fish of the day is…" As the man talked, Harry studied Neville (who was staring unblinkingly at the maitre'd). He'd grown, that was for sure. Harry hadn't really kept in touch with anyone, save for Ron and Hermione. It was seven years that he'd rather forget. Well, that wasn't completely true. There were also a lot of good memories that he wanted to hold onto forever.

But Neville looked good. The last time Harry had seen him was two years ago at the party celebrating Voldemort's demise. Neville had been so happy, because since the bastard was finally dead, the spell he'd put on his parents (it had turned out to be a spell instead of Crucio torture) was lifted. As of tonight, he'd grown a few more inches (Harry would bet 5'9 or 5'10), lost a fair amount of weight, and lost the childish characteristics his face used to showcase. He'd tuned into a man. 'A handsome man at that,' Harry admitted to himself.

"-and the soup is French Onion Soup. Enjoy your meals," and the maitre'd walked away.

Picking up his menu, Harry smiled hesitantly at Neville, "So, how are your parents?"

Neville grinned, "Oh, they're great! Making up for lost time is what they keep saying. I just think they're nuts!" When he realized what he'd said, he burst out laughing.

Harry laughed too, happy Neville was finally able to smile about it all, "Well, that's wonderful. I would love to visit them sometime," and he meant it.

Neville smiled softly, "They'd like that. After all, you _are _the reason they're sane again. Though, sometimes I wonder…" the corner of his mouth twitched. In a moment, they had both collapsed with laughter again.

Harry wiped the corner of his eye, "It's great to see you again, Nev. What are you having?"

Neville frowned at the menu (it was mostly in French) and shrugged, "I don't know. Escargot I guess. One, because I've always wanted to try it, and two, it's the only French dish I know," he started to chuckle again.

Harry grinned, "Yea, I know what you mean. I think I'll have that, too."

Just then, a waiter appeared, "Hi! Welcome to Pierre's. I'm Louis and I'll be your server for this evening. May I get you something to drink?"

Harry looked up at him, "Yes, and we're ready to order, as well." After they each ordered escargot, Harry insisted on also getting a bottle of their finest wine. "Don't worry about it," he assured Neville as Louis walked away, "Live a little. France is famous for its wine. That's where it was invented, right? So, no worries."

Neville nodded grudgingly, "Alright. Thank you, Harry."

"No problem," Harry flashed him a smile. Then a thought struck him. This was technically a date, so he'd better not flirt with Neville and give him the wrong idea.

Their meals arrived a short time later, and they conversed easily throughout dinner. They both ordered Crème Brule for desert and Neville commented on how much they had in common. Harry agreed, albeit reluctantly.

Harry insisted on paying, though Neville protested a considerable amount. Harry argued that he had more money than he could ever use in his lifetime, and so, Neville finally gave in.

They exited the restaurant and walked slowly down the street. "So, Harry, you seek for the Canons, right?" Neville asked casually, trying to keep up the steady flow of conversation.

"Yup. For the past two years. And mind you, we've won the League Cup the past two years as well. First time in one hundred and five years," he added sheepishly.

Neville let out a low whistle, "Wow. That's a long time. Thank God they've got you as their Seeker. You haven't lost a game since what, third year? But, Harry, what inspired you to join the worst club in the League?"

"Ron," Harry said simply, "I knew how much it'd mean to him if his best friend played on his team. And plus," Harry winked, "whenever he gets mad at me, all I have to do is remind him of it."

Neville grinned, "Good thing, that is." They walked in silence for a few moments, until Neville stopped abruptly and turned to Harry, "Harry, can I see you again?"

Harry sighed and turned as well. This was the moment he'd been dreading. "Neville, I'm gonna be honest with you. You're a great guy, but I'm not in the market for a boyfriend right now. I'm alone and I'm content," he said honestly, fearfully awaiting Neville's reaction.

Neville shrugged, "It's ok, Harry. I've always liked you, even back at school. You're a great guy, too. But, Harry, promise me this."

"Anything."

"If you ever come on the market, give me a call first," he winked, swiftly leaned in to press a kiss on Harry's cheek, and stepped into the alleyway to their right. With a crack, he disapparated. He certainly had changed.

Harry rubbed his eyes wearily and also entered the alley. He apparated home and slumped against the front door. 'What a night,' he thought tiredly, 'I certainly don't want to face Ron in the morning.' Then, he grinned and hurried to his bedroom, quickly undoing his tie.

_To be continued…_

**A/N:** so yea…that's only the beginning…it was short and kinda lacking in laughs…but this chap was necessary in setting up the rest of the fic…i can guarantee you that the rest of this fic will _at least_ be better than this…though, i kinda liked forceful!Ron and sexy!Neville…heh heh…but that's just me…also…this isn't a Harry/Neville…but the pairing might also not be what you think ((grins nastily))…but Neville will make at least one more appearance…and so will their waiter, Louis…you guys can guess at who Harry ends up with if you want…but i will say this…you ain't seen nothing yet…

also…though i like this fic quite a bit…Knock First, Damn-it is my #1 priority right now…so don't expect another chapter of this for at least three weeks…and that's counting on my mother dearest being nice…so yea…ummm…please review even if you liked it a little…and no flames I beg of you!…this might not be the bestest chapter ever…but flames make me cry (a lot!)…anyways…cheers for now!


	2. Of Keepers and Crime

**Dirty Little Secret**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. The story, however, is my own, my preciousssssssss (LOTR rocks!).

**A/N:** uhh, hey, guys. so this chapter has been a long time coming. but, well, the reason this is _soooooo_ brutally late is because last year senior year hit and well, i didn't have the strength to hit back. i was always busy- mostly for school- cause i was taking four ap classes and had tons of extra curriculars after school. so, i was swamped. but i've always said, if i start a story on here, i'll finish it (though, i did just start college…gulp). but, don't worry. it may take a while between some updates, and i apologize for that, but all my stories will be finished. i already have a few new stories in the works- including a sequel to _You Had Me at __Hello_ (yay!)- so you haven't quite gotten rid of me yet. on that note, here's chapter 2 of _Dirty Little Secret_, and i hope you enjoy!

_**Chapter 2- **Of Keepers and Crime_

"But, Harry, Neville's _perfect_ for you! You two have so much in common! And from what I can tell, in a purely analytical sense, he's not bad looking either. So, what's the problem?" Ron cried.

Harry rolled his eyes. Straight men. "Honestly, Ron, gay men aren't as fixated on looks as people think we are. Contrary to popular belief, personality is a big part of attraction for us, too."

"But, Harry-"

"Besides," Harry continued loudly over Ron, "Neville and I would never work. See, as we were sitting there eating, I kept expecting a toad to pop out of nowhere and for Neville to shout 'Trevor!' and run after it." Harry shrugged, "Old impressions die hard, I guess."

"Oh, Harry," Ron rubbed his eyes tiredly, "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

"Umm…huh?" Harry cocked his head to the side.

"It's my goal for you to have a date for my wedding. Someone you _like_. Someone you're _dating_. I will _succeed_," Ron said determinedly.

"Oh Merlin, Ron. Is_ that_ what this is about?" Harry groaned, "Why do I need a date? I always go stag, anyway!"

"Geez, Harry, yes you do! Me and 'Mione are worried about-"

"Don't you dare drag me into this!" Hermione admonished from her place at the kitchen table. She clucked her tongue and made a note on yet another list, "This was your idea, not mine."

"Yeah, but you helped by giving me your address book!" Ron pointed out sulkily.

"Hermione! How could you?" Harry cried, feeling betrayed.

"Sorry," she gave him an apologetic smile, "But you know Ron. If I hadn't given him something, he would have just kept bothering me…"

"Hey!"

"Yeah, but you didn't have to give him something that would actually _help_!" Harry whined.

"Well, no, but he _is_ smarter than we give him credit for, Harry. He would have eventually figured out I was leading him in circles…"

"I'm right here, you know!" Ron cut in loudly.

"Yeah, you sure as hell are," Harry muttered under his breath.

"I heard that!"

"I believe you were meant to, Ronald," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," Harry cut her off before things got ugly, "this just isn't gonna work, Ron. You can't just start randomly pairing me with people and hoping to strike gold. Things don't work that way."

Ron sighed heavily, "God, Harry, why couldn't you have just found the perfect someone in school like I did?" He smiled fondly at Hermione, who gave him a small smile in return.

"Too easy," Harry smirked. Ron frowned. Harry sure had been smirking a lot lately.

"Yeah, you have to do everything the hard way, don't you?" Ron ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"He's Harry," Hermione shrugged, as if that explained it all perfectly. And in a way, it did.

"Umm, right here," Harry waved, "But, anyway, I don't think it's fair that you have Hermione helping you, Ron. I mean, she could knock down the Great Wall of China just by glaring at it."

"Yes, she's quite wonderful, isn't she," Ron winked, "But a bit of a know-it-all, really."

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"Just once, I want to know something she doesn't know, ya know?" Ron sighed wistfully.

"Yes, yes I do," Harry replied solemnly, his mouth twitching.

"Oh, honestly, you two! You know I'm right here!" Hermione said shrilly.

"Yes, you are," the two men said together and then burst out laughing.

Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered something about annoying little boys.

"We're right here, 'Mione!" they shouted as if on cue. They started giggling again.

Hermione groaned.

&#&

"Where the hell are we?" Harry questioned Ron cautiously.

"What does it look like to you?" Ron asked kindly, as if he were speaking to a two year-old. When faced with Harry's stubbornness, he may very well have been.

Harry scratched his head thoughtfully. "Well, it _looks_ like a monster truck rally, but you probably have no idea-" he petered off at the grin on Ron's face.

"Bill and Dad love them. And so does your date!" Ron gleefully shoved a ticket into Harry's hand.

Harry's face immediately darkened, "_Another_ blind date, Ron? Honestly, I thought I'd gotten my point across with Neville- I'm happy the way I am!"

"What? You're happy being all alone in that huge house? I think not!" Ron shook his head sadly.

After Harry had defeated Voldemort, the entire wizarding world had decided to show their gratitude by donating a huge pile of gold to build a new house next to Harry's childhood home in Godric's Hollow. The place was _enormous_. But Harry, being Harry, couldn't bring himself to refuse living there since they'd already gone to all that trouble…

"I'm very happy, thank you," Harry retorted, the hint of a snarl in his voice. He loved Ron dearly, but this scheme of his was really starting to grate on Harry's nerves…

"I just wish you'd tell me why you're so keen on remaining single," Ron murmured sadly.

"Because I'm sick of everyone poking their noses into my business! When I want to settle down, I will! Merlin, Ron, I'm only twenty-three!" Harry glared at his best friend.

Ron was nothing if not persistent, "At least go tonight, mate. Your date paid for the ticket."

Harry deflated almost instantly. If the guy had went to some trouble on his behalf… "Fine," he agreed through clenched teeth, "But this is the _last one_."

Ron smiled cheerfully, "All right. I have a good feeling about this one, anyway!" And he pushed Harry over to the short line of people waiting to get inside. "See ya, mate!" He hurried off.

Harry glanced at his ticket warily: he, unlike his redheaded best friend, had a _very_ bad feeling about this…

He grudgingly handed his ticket to the man collecting them and started to maneuver his way through the sizable throng of bodies to find his seat, and inevitably, meet his date.

He finally reached Row K, Seat 5 (he had to admit, they were _good_ seats) and was surprised to see no one there. Shrugging, he sat down and tried not to pay attention to the rowdy men who reeked of beer sitting behind him.

Harry was really getting into the tune he was drumming on his legs when a rough voice wheezed, "Hey, pretty boy!"

Harry paused for about a second until he realized he was being presumptuous and the person was obviously not speaking to him. "Oy!" another slurred voice chimed in, "pretty boy with the black hair and glasses!"

Harry's head snapped up. Well, that narrowed things down a bit. He turned slowly to look at the drunken men behind him. "May I help you?" he asked stiffly, while moving his right arm to feel the familiar weight of his wand up his sleeve.

A particularly large, nasty looking brute leered at him, "Yeah, pretty. You can either come back here, hang with us, and leave with us, or we can come down there and knock your block off."

Harry's eyes, well-trained from the war, darted around quickly to access his surroundings. He immediately noticed two things: the growing interest in the scene from those around them, and the startling lack of security anywhere nearby.

That ruled out his wand and screaming for help like a little girl. With the way their neighbors were eying the men up, he doubted he'd get any support from anyone. He sighed. Nothing for it then. He'd have to talk his way out of this one.

"Hi, boys," he purred suggestively, tugging at his collar (he hadn't acted overtly sexy in a while, but it was all he could come up with), "I'd love to join you lovely gentlemen, but let me go to the bathroom first and freshen up." He stood up slowly, keeping eye contact with the ring leader the entire time (it showed the person you weren't afraid).

He'd made it to the end of the row when the burly man growled, "Just wait one second…" And he suddenly grabbed Harry roughly by the arm. Harry tried desperately to wrench his arm away, but the man was a lot stronger than he looked. Harry was just resolving himself to use his wand and risk getting in huge trouble with the Ministry, when an angry voice snarled, "Let go of him, you bastard."

Harry turned around gratefully to see who his savior was, and was shocked when he saw Oliver Wood standing there. "Wood?" he asked in a surprised tone.

"Hiya, Harry," Wood said with a pained smile. He walked right up to the leader (Wood was about three inches taller than Harry and therefore an inch shorter than the leader of the rowdy men) and growled in his face, "_What did I say_?"

The leader gulped while glancing nervously at the muscles bulging in Wood's arms and suddenly slackened his grip on Harry's elbow. Harry quickly scurried behind Wood and peered over the tall Keeper's shoulder at his attacker. The burly leader shrugged and turned back to his seat and friends, who were laughing at him. Wood looked over his shoulder at Harry and smiled, "I know you're tough, Harry, but try not to get into fights with guys twice your size. It's not very wise."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that. And thank you for coming to my rescue. Who are you with? I'm waiting for a blind date to show up," Harry grimaced, "but he doesn't seem to be here yet."

Wood's smile broadened, "I just saw my date."

Harry perked up, "Oh, where is she?"

Wood laughed, "I'm staring at _him_."

Harry blanched. _Oh_.

&#&

Harry glanced over at Woo- _Oliver_ and smiled at the exuberated expression gracing the man's face. He clearly _loved_ monster truck rallies and wasn't afraid to show it. Harry liked that in people. Not to mention the fact that the years had been _good_ to his old captain. He was incredibly well-toned and the boyish roughness he'd had at school was gone from his face: replaced with smooth, Grecian features. And he was just so _nice_. And rich. And popular. And- Harry shook himself. What was he _thinking_?

"So, Oliver," Harry questioned hesitantly (Oliver had insisted that they'd known each other too long to still be using surnames), "you're still primary Keeper for Puddlemere, right?"

Oliver nodded and smiled wistfully, "Yeah. You lot beat us out for the British Cup last year, remember?"

Harry grinned, "Yes, I _do_ seem to remember that…"

"Seeing as it was you who caught the snitch right out from under our Seeker's nose and won the match…"

"Aww…that's not true…"

"Anyway, if I remember correctly, your Keeper is fantastic."

"Who?" Harry blinked, "Jason Greene? Nah. He's good, but not as good as you."

Oliver wiggled his eyebrows, "In more ways than one, I'd bet."

Harry gulped, "Uhh, right. Okay, so…monster trucks? What's the point?"

Oliver shrugged, "The huge trucks destroy stuff and the stuff tries to get away. Anyway, are you telling me you never slept with Greene? He's pretty hot, Harry, and seeing as how you're a flaming homosexual and all…"

Harry bristled, "Excuse me? Just because I'm gay doesn't make me flaming. Just because I don't like to watch large muggle machines demolish smaller muggle machines doesn't make me flaming. Just because I couldn't beat up a guy a half a foot taller than me doesn't make me flaming. Just because-"

Oliver laughed and started to wave his hands, "Harry, Harry, Harry! I was kidding! Merlin, do you always get so defensive about your orientation?"

Harry scoffed, "No. I just don't like being called a flamer. I _know_ a flamer and I am _not_ one."

"Who?" Oliver questioned innocently.

"Err, that's not important," Harry muttered.

Oliver laughed again, "Anyway, why not Greene? I'd do him."

Harry stared at him, "That's nice, Oliver. I happen to dislike engaging in acts of meaningless sex with others. And, if you _must_ know, he did ask me out, but I'm a happy bachelor right now."

"Ohh, I see," Oliver nodded superiorly, "That's what you say, now, Harry, but I bet you'll be thinking differently by the end of the evening."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't know about that," he muttered to himself as Oliver turned back to that most gracious sport of trucks ramming into (and running over) each other.

&#&

"So, Harry," Oliver asked casually an hour later as they were flooding out of the stadium with all of the other spectators thronging around them, "do you want to get coffee somewhere?"

Harry glanced sideways at the tall Keeper and shrugged, "Sure, I guess so."

Oliver suddenly pulled him into an alleyway and with a crack (and an uncomfortable squeezing sensation), they were standing outside of a small coffee house named _Café Fino_. Harry blinked at the bright sign and eventually questioned curiously, "Italian coffee?"

Oliver nodded, "Italian coffee is highly underrated. They invented cappuccino, you know."

"Uh-huh," Harry murmured distractedly, not really listening. Instead, he was staring hard at the back of a blond head he could see through the café window. "You know, Oliver? I'm not really feeling like coffee right now. Too much caffeine and I won't sleep a wink tonight. So, I'll just say goodb-"

"Ahh, ahh, ahh!" Oliver tutted, grabbing onto Harry's arm again, "You can't get away with _that_ excuse, Mr. Potter! You can drink decaf!" And he started to drag Harry towards the small shop. Harry sighed, resigned to his fate.

"Hi!" Oliver beamed at the barista skulking behind the drab counter, "I'll have a café latte and my friend here will have a decaf cup of regular ole joe with…what d'you take in your coffee, Harry?"

Harry blinked, "Uhh, milk and two sugars."

"You heard the man," Oliver smiled, "Milk and two sugars, please."

The barista made short work of their order and was soon handing over two mugs while Harry supplied the money (he'd insisted since Oliver had bought the tickets). Oliver led him over to a small table in the corner by the window. Harry winced and-

"_Malfoy_?"

The blond head Harry had seen earlier jerked up and whipped around. "Wood," Draco Malfoy snarled, "what're you doing her- _Potter_? What are _you_ doing here?"

Harry sneered, "I happen to be on a date, Malfoy. Why are _you_ here?"

"A date, Potter? Why would anyone want to fuck you?" Malfoy asked innocently, hate clouding his eyes.

"I-"

"For your information, Malfoy, Harry here is a virgin. He doesn't believe in sleeping around, and I, for one, admire him greatly for it," Oliver said angrily.

Malfoy chortled, "Judging by the look on Potter's face, Wood, you're way off."

Oliver looked over at Harry, who was scowling at him. "What?" he shrugged.

"I never said I was a virgin, Oliver: just that I don't sleep with every person I meet with a dick," Harry spat, "So, don't make assumptions and say something like _that_ to my mortal enemy."

"Sorry, Harry, I just thought-"

"You obviously didn't think," Malfoy smirked, "because if you had you would have realized Potter's too gorgeous to go without getting buggered for long."

"Are you on Harry's side?" Oliver asked, a confused look on his face.

"And I'm the one who bloody well does the buggering, you arse," Harry spat at the blonde.

"Oh, I see," Malfoy murmured, "well, there's no need to sound so offended, Potter. I, myself, love to take it." And Malfoy stood up slowly, gathered the papers spread in front of him, smirked at Harry (and completely ignored Oliver), and sashayed out of the café.

"Well, that was weird," Oliver decided.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "Look, let's just drink our coffee and leave, okay?"

They sat down at the table Malfoy had just vacated and started to sip from their still steaming cups. "Wait," Harry said suddenly, "Did he say I was _gorgeous_?"

&#&

"So, Harry, I had a lot of fun tonight," Oliver smiled shyly at Harry as they approached Harry's doorstep.

"Yeah, it was fun. Well, except for the drunken men trying to rape me, the alarmingly intimate discussion about my Keeper, and the confrontation with my old school rival. Other than that, it was bangin'."

Oliver grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, well, when you put it that way…"

"Well, good night, Oliver. I guess I'll see you around the Quidditch pitch, eh?" And Harry started up his front steps.

"Harry!" Oliver cried, "Can I see you again?"

Harry blinked at him, "Umm, no."

&#&

"Ooh, Harry, that was harsh. 'Umm, no'? Wow, we need to work on your people skills," Hermione admonished the raven-haired boy the next day as she was sticking push-pins rather violently into a large cork board with _Seating __Arrangements_ emblazoned across the top.

"Well," Harry shrugged, "it was true. We've been over this a million times, 'Mione. I don't want to go out with anyone. I'm happy just being by myself right now. I'm still recovering from everything's that happened in my life. A relationship would just complicate my mind, not to mention my seeking. You know I'm hardly ever home because of practice and games, anyway."

"Well…that's true…"

"Hermione! Don't let him sway you to the Dark Side!" Ron cried as he entered the living room.

Harry gave the redhead an odd look, "How do you know about the Dark Side?"

Ron shrugged sheepishly, "Hermione let me watch all six Star Wars movies in a row the other day."

"Is that even possible?" Harry questioned Hermione curiously.

"Apparently."

"I can do anything I put my mind to," Ron said smugly.

"Except for one thing," Harry said pointedly.

Ron blinked, "And what would that be?"

"Setting me up with someone I'd actually want to _date_."

"Don't write me off just yet," Ron smirked, "I think you'll really like the next guy."

"Ron," Harry spat angrily, "I-"

&#&

"I refuse! Not another one! Never!" Harry cried passionately even as Ron pushed him towards the mini-golf green.

Ron shook his head, "You're already here, Harry. And your date has already seen you." Ron nodded towards a slim brunette loitering by the entrance, looking out of place in his black slacks and light blue button-down shirt.

"Who's that?" Harry asked.

"Your date," Ron replied.

"Ron…" Harry responded in a warning tone.

Ron sighed. "Fine. He's a guy from my office, all right? He's actually, uhh, my secretary," Ron's ears turned pink.

Harry whirled around, "You're seriously setting me up with your secretary? That's low, even for you, Ron."

Ron bowed his head, "I know. But I'm getting desperate. When I found out he was gay, I couldn't help myself. He's kind of cute, right?"

Harry rolled his eyes. The man they were approaching was beyond cute. He was drop-dead gorgeous. "Hey, Jacob," Ron greeted the short man (he was about 5'8) warmly, "How are you?"

The guy looked up at them and beamed, "I'm great, Mr. Weasley. And how are y-oh wow, is this him?" He stared at Harry with open admiration.

"Yes," Ron pushed Harry forward, "This, Jacob, is-"

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter," Harry smiled, holding out his hand.

The man grabbed the proffered hand and shook it enthusiastically, "It's great to meet you, Harry! I'm Jacob Everett, Mr. Weasley's secretary and an ardent supporter of the Canons!"

"He's a _huge_ Canon fan," Ron grinned, "And you're his favorite player, mate."

"Naturally," Jacob agreed.

Harry was surprised. It was still weird to meet people who admired him because of his Quidditch career and not his defeat of What's-His-Face. He was actually rather grateful. "Well, thanks for your support," he beamed, "it's always great to meet fans."

"I don't want to intrude, so I'll just leave you to it, then," Ron said quickly, and before Harry could even process the words, the wizard had dashed behind a corner and apparated with a crack.

'That bastard,' Harry thought mutinously even as he smiled at Jacob and murmured, "Shall we?"

Jacob eyed him happily, "Yes, let's!

Harry sighed. He was going to put a Leg-Locking Curse so powerful on the youngest male Weasley that he wouldn't be able to walk for a week.

&#&

An hour later, Harry was laughing hysterically as Jacob did a startlingly accurate impersonation of Dolores Umbridge next to the eighteenth hole. "Hem, hem," Jacob coughed girlishly into his hand, "I believe it's my turn to putt, Harry."

Harry grinned, "Ahh, so it is, Professor. Please don't hurt yourself from the physical strain."

"Oh, you're so kind to think of me, Harry! Though, I'm afraid I'll have to take away your Quidditch privileges now," he mock-glared at the Seeker.

"Oh, no! Whatever shall I do?" Harry cried, throwing an exaggerated hand over his heart.

Jacob suddenly broke character and started to giggle helplessly. "Wow, Harry, you're really funny, too! I'm having so much fun," he stopped laughing and smiled shyly, looking down at his feet.

Harry smiled softly. "I'm having a lot of fun, too," he admitted, a tone of surprise evident in his voice. He was shocked he was having so much fun with a man Ron had set him up with. He hadn't thought of dinner with Neville as a date, and he'd been too traumatized by his evening with Oliver to have fun. But this…well, this was _nice_.

"Oh! I win!" Jacob exclaimed, staring at the scorecard he'd been scribbling on, "I beat you!"

Harry grinned. "Congrats. You played quite well." He didn't have the heart to admit he'd let the younger man win.

"Will you, umm, apparate me home, Harry?" Jacob asked hesitantly. At Harry's amused look, he rushed to add, "It's just, I'm the worst at apparation. I don't know how I passed my test. I-"

"I'd love to," Harry broke in gently. Jacob's eyes lit up. Harry took the smaller man's hand, walked him over to a dark corner of the complex, and, with a crack, they were gone.

_To be continued…_

**A/N: **heh. so, yeah. you're gonna have to wait till the next chapter to find out what happens. cause i'm evil like that. this should be updated relatively soon, as i feel i'm finally back in the swing of things. again, i apologize for the ridiculous delay, and thank you for sticking with me. and keep guessing on who harry's gonna end up with. it may not be who you think! _((wink))_ i love you all. please review!!


	3. Ginerva and the Straight Gay

**Dirty Little Secret**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. The story, however, is my own, my _preciousssss_ (LOTR rocks!).

**A/N: **hey, everybody! college is weird. rubs eyes confusedly all my classes were like…"grr." i was so terrified i was gonna fail everything (but i didn't. yay!). and it's also sad that it seems everyone abandoned this story. of course, that's my fault because it takes me so long to update. sigh i'm hopeless. oh, well. i tried to get this out a lot faster this time, so enjoy! i don't know how i feel about this chapter, but what matters is what _you _all think. so enjoy!

_Previously on __**Dirty Little Secret**_

"Will you, umm, apparate me home, Harry?" Jacob asked hesitantly. At Harry's amused look, he rushed to add, "It's just, I'm the worst at apparation. I don't know how I passed my test. I-"

"I'd love to," Harry broke in gently. Jacob's eyes lit up. Harry took the smaller man's hand, walked him over to a dark corner of the complex, and, with a crack, they were gone.

_And now, on with the show…_

_**Chapter 3- **__Ginerva and the Straight Gay_

"Come to think of it, things were always disappearing from our department. But we just blamed it on the gnomes…" Ron murmured thoughtfully, rubbing the back of his neck.

Harry blinked at him, "You have gnomes at work?"

"Yeah, haven't you ever heard of office gnomes? They're the direct descendents of garden gnomes," Ron nodded superiorly.

"Evolution at work," Hermione agreed, staring into the dancing orange and yellow flames of the Burrow's parlor. She didn't want to look at Harry (who was sprawled out on the couch) it seemed.

"See? You learn something new every day," Ron smiled nervously.

Harry glared at him, "Don't change the subject, you idiot. He stole _my wallet_, Ron. And _my wand_. Not to mention about twenty golf balls and two nine-irons."

"Which is amazing, really, cause where the heck did he fit all that…" Ron petered off at the ugly look on Harry's face.

"You set me up with a criminal- a thief. What can you possibly say to defend yourself?" Harry asked shrilly.

"I didn't know?" Ron responded weakly, "And thief is such a _strong_ word. More like…kleptomaniac."

"So, you said you apparated him back to his flat, he invited you in for a night cap, you got upstairs, he kissed you, and then you discovered that your wand and wallet were missing?" Hermione questioned him analytically. All she needed was a clipboard and a press badge.

"Yes," Harry bit out.

"And then you punched him, took your stuff back, and stormed out, yes?" she pressed on.

"Yes," Harry was getting annoyed.

"Then I have just one question."

"Oh really? Only one?"

"Where'd you get that black eye, then?" Hermione motioned to the nasty blue-green bruise formed on and around his right eye.

Harry's hand flew to the aforementioned eye and he winced, "Uhh, well, I, uhh…"

"He hit you, too?" Ron prompted.

"No!" Harry growled, "I just tripped and whacked my head on my…coffee table. Right. My coffee table!"

"Sure, your _coffee table_…" Ron smirked.

Harry snorted, "You have no right to be sarcastic. You had the balls to set me up with your secretary, I made the mistake of actually liking him, and then he stole my crap. You're lower than dog food in my eyes right now, Weasley."

"So, if he hadn't stolen your things, Harry, would you have gone out with him again?" Hermione asked curiously.

Harry scoffed. "'Course not. I'm happy being single, remember? He was a nice guy, though. It's almost better he stole my stuff: I had a reason to leave after that kiss. He kissed me really hard," Harry shuddered, "My lips were red and swollen, and when I got home h- I wiped them off." He chuckled nervously.

"Interesting," Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Well, Ronald," she continued, "I think we've meddled enough. Harry has just had a traumatic experience-"

"That's hardly traumatic!" Ron interrupted, looking scandalized.

"Yeah, I'm not two, you know!" Harry bristled.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the bespectacled boy, "I'm trying to help you, you nitwit."

Harry blinked, "Oh. _Oh_. Yes…traumatizing! I'll never be the same again!" He threw a hand over his eyes, "How could you do such a thing to me, Ron? I thought you were _my friend_!?"

Ron sighed, "Fine. _Fine_. It seems that neither of you can see the good I'm trying to do here. Oh well. If you really want me to stop, Harry, I will."

Harry slowly lowered his hand, "You will?"

"Yes," Ron nodded solemnly, "I swear I won't set you up with anymore guys from now on."

"Thanks, Ron. I knew you'd understand."

Ron grinned nastily, "No problem, mate."

&#&

Harry rubbed his face tiredly as he attempted to read his Quidditch captain's insanely complicated outline for their next practice. Sighing, he finally gave up and tossed the parchment aside while roaming out to his large kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Just as he was opening the fridge to get the milk, his doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock wearily- it was eight o'clock and he really just wanted to be left alone for the night- he had a long practice ahead of him tomorrow. But Harry was…well…_Harry_, so he went to the door, figuring it could be an emergency, like a rogue Death Eater attack or a neighbor in dire need of sugar or something…

It was Ginny. She smiled sweetly up at Harry, "Good evening, Harry. How've you been?"

Harry blinked down at her, "I'm, uhh, great, Ginny. But isn't it a little late for small talk?"

Ginny giggled, "Gee, Harry, it's only eight! You're turning into an old man 'cause you don't get out enough! Well," she grinned, "I'm here to remedy that! Let's have a night on the town together!" She grabbed his hand and tried to pull him out of the house.

Harry looked down at his attire- bright red boxers and a tight grey Canons t-shirt- and stood his ground. "Okay, one, I don't feel like going out. Two, I have a lot of work to do before practice tomorrow. Three, where you _really_ planning on taking me out dressed like this?" he motioned vaguely to his scantily-clad body and bare feet.

Ginny had the decency to turn bright red. "Well, no, I suppose not. But you can change!" she added brightly.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Didn't you hear me? I don't feel like going anywhere because I have a lot to read before Quidditch practice tomorrow. Maybe we can get a drink and catch up some other time, yeah?"

He smiled and started to close the door, but stopped when he saw Ginny shaking her head earnestly, "No, Harry, tonight! Look, I'm even dressed for clubbing and everything!" She did a little twirl and her silver mini-skirt whipped around her thighs.

"I hate clubbing," Harry said bluntly. "And all of my clothes are in the wash. So, sorry. I guess you can come in for some tea for a little bit, though," he conceded, stepping aside for her to enter.

"I don't know about you living all by yourself here, Harry. You need someone to look after you! Or one day you'll wake up and not have any clothes at all! And you won't have anyone to remind you to do _magic_ to clean them!" And she scampered up the stairs and towards his room.

"GINNY! NO!" Harry cried and tore after her. She was at the end of the hall, just starting to pull open the door to the master bedroom when Harry slammed himself in front of it. "You can't go in there! It's, uhh..it's a mess! And kind of embarrassing."

Ginny laughed, "I don't care about that. I'll just go in, pick something for you to wear, and be right back out. I won't even look at the mess." She winked at him and tried to nudge him aside. Harry stood his ground. "Harry! Come on!" She pushed fruitlessly at him. "You're not being fair! All I want to do is have a nice night out with a guy who _used_ to be one of my best friends! Why can't I have that!?" she cried, tears starting to drip down her cheeks.

Something pulled at Harry's heart strings then. He looked down at the bowed red head and the softly heaving shoulders and made a snap decision. "All right, how about this? I'll go in, pick something, scourgify it, and be ready in five. Go downstairs and wait for me?"

The head popped up and Ginny smiled cheerfully, "Sounds great! I'll be waiting!" And she stood on her tiptoes, pecked Harry on the cheek, and hurried off down the hallway.

Harry blinked. He'd just been played, hadn't he?

&#&

"ISN'T THIS PLACE GREAT?" Ginny screamed in Harry's ear, trying to make herself heard over the pulsating music oozing through the huge room they'd just entered.

Harry looked around _Veritaserum_, the popular Wizarding club, and shrugged, "It's a club. I don't really fancy clubs. I'm only here for you."

"WHAT?" she yelled back, looking confused. Harry sighed, shook his head, and motioned to the bar. She nodded enthusiastically, so Harry turned and fought his way over to the far side of the room. "Two firewhiskeys, please," he shouted at the bartender, who nodded and ducked down to get two glasses. Harry sat on a high stool and nodded his head to the music (some rap song he'd never heard before), trying to look like he belonged in the crowded club. Which, apparently, he didn't quite pull off.

"Hey, gorgeous, why do you look so uncomfortable? Do you _not_ come here often?" a guy on the barstool next to Harry wiggled his eyebrows, infinitely proud of what he thought was a very clever pick-up line.

Harry turned his head slowly to look at the gangly redhead and wrinkled his nose, "Sorry, mate, but you look like my best friend, so it's _not_ going to happen." He threw some coins down on the bar, took the two firewhiskeys the bartender had just placed in front of him, and slid off his barstool. He threw the Ron look-alike an apologetic look and went off in search of his honorary little sister.

She was dancing happily between two tall men and yelling along with the song, which Harry vaguely noted had changed into a pounding R&B rhythm. He pushed his way over to her, attempting not to spill the two drinks, and had just reached Ginny's side when one of the men reached down and grabbed Ginny's rear. Harry saw Ginny's eyes widen and she pulled herself away from the guy. Harry was just about to come to her rescue when she suddenly walked right up to the man, pointed her finger in his face, and screamed, "You better watch it or my date will jinx you!"

The guy sneered, "Oh yeah? Who's this high and mighty date that could hurt _me_?" He cracked his knuckles menacingly and slid his wand from a hidden pocket.

Ginny looked around quickly and, seeing Harry standing there with the drinks, motioned over at him triumphantly, "There he is."

The man looked over and, when he saw Harry, he gulped, "Your date's _the_ Harry Potter? Well, that's hardly fair, is it? And here I thought he was gay. Oh well, let's go, mate." And with one last cautious look at Harry, he and his friend hurried away.

Ginny bounced over to Harry and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Thanks, Harry, you saved me!" she cooed and took her drink.

Harry blinked at her, "I didn't do anything. I just stood here. It was…weird."

"What, Harry? Used to saving pretty girls with gallant acts of sheer nerve? Not used to watching the pretty girl save herself?" Ginny fluttered her eyelashes up at him.

"Uhh, well, one, I'd rather save pretty _boys_ if I had a choice, though if a girl's in trouble, by all means…and, err, two…you said I was your _date_?" Harry looked at her carefully.

"Oh! Well," Ginny blushed and paused, "I _obviously_ said that to stop him. 'This guy I'm with' doesn't have quite the same effect, you know?" She gave a short laugh and looked away, avoiding Harry's eyes.

It hit Harry in an instant, "I'm going to _kill_ him."

&#&

"WHERE IS HE?" Harry shouted the moment he stepped out of the fireplace and into Ron and Hermione's flat.

Hermione's head snapped up from where she'd been writing invitations, "Harry, what are you doing here so late? Are you oka-"

"Where is he?" Harry repeated quietly, but with a distinctly dangerous edge to his voice.

"Oh, Ron?" Hermione questioned, concern etching her features, "he's in the, umm, bath. But I wou-"

Harry was past her in an instant and storming down the hall towards the bathroom. He threw open the door and Ron's head flew up, a confused look on his face. When he saw Harry standing there with a look that could kill, he squeaked and sunk lower into the bathtub. "Uhh…hiya, Harry."

Harry exploded, "WE'VE BEEN THROUGH A LOT OF SHIT TOGETHER, RONALD WEASLEY, AND YOU'VE DONE A LOT OF SHITTY THINGS, TOO, BUT WE'VE STAYED FRIENDS, AGAINST ALL ODDS. YOU'RE MY BLOODY _BEST FRIEND. _SO WHY DO YOU TORTURE ME SO? WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?" Harry lost his steam and he slowly sunk to the floor and leaned against the wall. "Why do you do this to me?" he asked again, defeated.

Ron peered at him nervously over the edge of the tub and sighed, "I'm sorry, Harry. I just, well, I just figured that since none of the other guys were working, maybe you weren't quite as gay as you thought you were. I mean, Har, you've never had a real relationship since Ginny. Only occasional dates and stuff like that. So I thought…why not? Maybe you had it wrong when you decided you were gay."

Harry looked disbelievingly at the redhead, "Ron, you don't get something like that 'wrong'. I thought and reflected a long time to realize I was gay. Do you think I want to be? In the muggle world, well, Britain's better than other places, but homosexuality is kinda frowned on. Luckily, the Wizarding world generally doesn't care. But I didn't choose this. It's who I am."

Ron looked away, "You're right, mate, I'm sorry. So, did Ginny tell you?" He scowled at the thought, "I told her to keep quiet…"

"No, well," Harry amended, "she let it slip by mistake. A guy was hitting on her and she told him off by threatening him with her date: me." Ron grimaced. "Yeah," Harry snorted, "so that's when I figured it out."

"So, no more chicks?" Ron sighed, "well, that narrows it down…"

Harry groaned, "Ron, why are you so keen on setting me up with someone before your wedding? Are you having marital remorse or something for me?" He chuckled a little.

Ron rolled his eyes, "It's not anything like that. It's just, well…okay…maybe that's actually a good way to describe it. I guess I'm so happy that I want you to be, too. And, I dunno, I know you're like a celebrity and all, but you really don't spend time with anyone beyond me, 'Mione, and the team. We- okay, _I_- worry about you, mate."

"I get that, Ron. I really do. But you have to let me find someone on my own. That's the only way it's going to work!" Harry cried.

"But where will you find this fabled guy, Harry?" Ron continued relentlessly, "Are you going to date someone on the team? Cause as far as I know, Greene is the only gay one, and he _already _asked you out and you turned him down, so you obviously don't fancy _him_…"

"Ron," Harry began warningly.

"And you never go out with anyone else! I'm the only non-work related male you associate with, and I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm taken, if you hadn't noticed!" Ron was getting upset, "So, please, just let me help you with this, okay? I worry about you, mate. I, uhh…" Ron stopped and cleared his throat, "I love you, man, and I want you to be as happy as me and 'Mione are." His ears turned bright red.

Harry's resolve shattered. He'd been so adamant, so firm…but…what was wrong with Ron trying, really? Well, actually... No. He'd do it. For Ron. "Fine," he snapped.

"I know you don't want to, bu- 'fine'?" Ron gasped, "You mean, you'll let me try?"

Harry blanched and seriously considered rescinding his offer after seeing the eager look on Ron's freckled face. But, well, he'd said he would. "Yes," he said decisively, throwing all caution to the wind, "I'll let you try."

"'Mione, he's gonna let me try!" Ron shouted exuberantly and leapt out of the bathtub and ran out the door, buck-naked.

Harry blinked. Now he was scarred for life.

&#&

With the thought of a naked Ron still dancing in his head (and making him feel quite nauseous, among other things), Harry approached the movie theater with extreme trepidation. He'd agreed, but well…he still hated the idea. He was happy the way he was. He was happy with his-

"Are you Harry Potter?" a firm voice asked from behind him.

Harry turned and blinked at the guy standing before him. He was about the same height as Harry, with dirty blonde hair combed into a neat part (it made Harry's "artfully"- that's what he told people- messy hair look like a rat's nest) and clear blue eyes. He was dressed casually in jeans and a red polo shirt (all the other dates had been dressed up) and he had a wide smile on his face. Harry couldn't help but grin back. "Yup, that's me," Harry nodded, "at least, last time I checked…" he added in a worried voice.

The guy laughed and stuck out a hand, "Jack O'Connor. Great to finally meet you, Harry."

Harry gulped. The guy was _Irish_ and he had a _brogue_. Harry had always had a thing for guys with accents. "Likewise. Ron told me a lot about you. You guys play on the Ministry Quidditch team together, right?" Jack nodded. "Wicked."

"Shall we go in?" Jack questioned easily and motioned to the door of the theater. Harry nodded and the two walked in. After buying tickets to see a sappy romantic comedy that the critics had panned, they bought popcorn and drinks (Jack gagged as Harry enthusiastically pumped butter onto the kernels) and found their theater just as the trailers were starting.

They laughed during the lame previews, jumped during the scary ones, and teared up during the angsty ones. Once the movie started, Jack kept looking over at Harry to see if he was laughing at the same time Jack was, and he kept brushing his arm against Harry's and then looking away when Harry glanced at him. Harry chuckled.

As the credits were rolling, Jack stood up and stretched. Harry pretended not to notice the enticing strip of creamy skin peeking provocatively from above his waistband. "Well, that sucked," he said cheerfully as he grabbed his coat.

Harry laughed, "Hey, we knew that going in," and he shrugged into his jacket.

"True," Jack nodded. "Anyway…coffee?" he offered hopefully.

Harry winced, "Uhh, I've actually had some really bad experiences with coffee recently. How about…" Harry let the sentence hang and thought hard about what he could do to continue this outing.

"…Pancakes!" Jack suggested suddenly.

Harry blinked and started to grin, "Okay, pancakes it is." He offered Jack his arm and nodded formally, "May I apparate you, dear sir?"

"Umm…sure?" Jack looked at him funny and touched his arm gingerly. Harry glanced at him worriedly and, shrugging, apparated them away.

&#&

"These are the best pancakes I've ever tasted," Jack said reverently as he savored the sweet morsel in his mouth.

Harry laughed at his blissful expression, "They're just pancakes at my local diner, mate."

"Ambrosial pancakes made by the diner of the Gods," Jack sighed. "Anyway," he continued, opening his eyes and focusing all of his intense energy on Harry, "Tell me more about yourself, Harry."

Harry wiggled uncomfortably. He _hated_ talking about himself. "Uhh…well…" he started uselessly.

"Oops, I forgot," Jack rushed out, "Harry Potter doesn't like talking about himself!"

Harry blushed, "Well, it's, uhh, not that…" he paused, "Yeah, okay, it's exactly that, actually…" Jack laughed. "But, I should tell you some stuff, I guess. Let's see…I didn't know I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter, I killed a mass-murdering fuckhead when I was seventeen- or more accurately, I forced him to kill himself-, I dated Ginny Weasley and broke up with Ginny Weasley, realized I was gay shortly after, became the Seeker for the Chud-"

"You're _gay_?" Jack interrupted suddenly, an odd look on his face.

Harry blinked, "Uhh, yeah? It was all over the news a few years ago. Plus, why else do you think we're here?" Harry laughed. "Anyway, like I was saying-"

"I'm here to make a new friend," Jack said bluntly, "why do _you_ think we're here?

"Because Ron's been setting me up on blind dates and this was the first one I actually agreed to?" Harry offered carefully.

"I should have known!" Jack cried, "That Ronald Weasley! He told me this was a chance for me to meet some more people in Britain since I just moved here a few months ago. But I should have known he would still be on that 'gay' thing!" Jack jumped up and grabbed his coat.

"Wait! Jack! There's been a big misunderstanding here! I'm not actually looking for anyone to date now anyway! I'm only interested in friendship, I swear!" he leapt up as well and started throwing muggle bills on the table.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I can't have a _gay_ friend. I might catch it or something." And he ran from the dinner and didn't look back.

Harry stood there, his mouth hanging open, until their waitress came over and started clearing the table. "Tough luck, kid," she patted him on the back, "A good looking boy like you will get the next guy, no problem."

Harry sighed as he trudged out of the dinner into the night air. Attracting and getting all of these guys…that _was_ his problem. And he apparated away with a crack.

&#&

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ron said as he looked at the brunette earnestly, "I knew he denies what he is, but I still set you up with him. It's just…I thought if anyone could make him admit it, it'd be you."

Harry stared sullenly at his best friend, "And why is that?"

"Because you're the Wizarding world's most eligible bachelor! And I figured he had a bit of a crush on you with the way he'd blush whenever I mentioned you."

"But how'd you figure out he's gay if he won't even admit it?" Harry asked curiously and took a long sip from the tea mug in his hands.

Ron glanced around the little bakery the two were seated in and then shrugged, "Cause I saw him making out with one of the male secretaries in a broom cupboard."

Harry blinked, "Oh."

"But after I suggested he go out with you, he got all upset. Kept insisting he wasn't gay. I mentioned the scene I'd witnessed and he made a whole ton of excuses: the kid had attacked him, he wasn't feeling well that day, he'd pushed him away as soon as I'd left; that type of thing. But he was seriously into it when I was watching. So," Ron shrugged again, "I knew he was lying and I figured he was a nice guy and if anyone could make him face the facts, it'd be you."

"That's either a thinly-veiled compliment on my charms or an even more subtle jibe at my obvious gayness. I'll assume you meant the first one," Harry raised as eyebrow.

"Of course I meant the firs-"

Harry laughed, "I was kidding, Ron. Thank you, I guess. Just, next time…make sure they're gay first, okay?"

"Obviously," Ron sighed, "This is a lot harder than I thought it would be. And you're no help!" He shot a glare at the other man.

Harry raised his hands, "Hey, I'm not supposed to make this easy for you. I'm the one who didn't want any part of this to begin with!"

"Yeah, well…" Ron trailed off and then smirked at Harry, "You're gonna get paired up with somebody, Mister Potter, and you're _going to like it_."

Harry gulped. Ron sure knew how to make even the simplest thing, like dating, scary. He sounded like Hermione on a homework rampage. She had definitely rubbed off on him. And, for the sake of Harry's mental and physical well-being, _that_ was not a good thing.

_To be continued…_

**A/N:** whoof ((wipes forehead)) it's finally done. this took me a very long time because ginny was being a pain in the ass, to be honest. i'm gonna tell you all now, this is going to have some elements of _Deathly Hallows_ in it- like mentioning how voldything died. but other bits are gonna be left out- like certain people dying- ((cough))- seeing as how i started this fic before HBP even, and had all the dates and stuff worked out- and some people who i was gonna have in here didn't make it through DH. so yeah. i'll just be ignoring their deaths…haha. i'm not so sure about this chapter, to be honest. but, oh well. any new guesses on who harry's gonna end up with? it might be someone we've already met! i'll try to have the next chapter up as soon as possible. until then…enjoy, read, and review!!


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